From "Joe the Plumber" to Steve Lonegan to Shorty Long: New Jersey's wacky political scene is the best

AP PhotoSamuel 'Joe the Plumber' Wurzelbacher, who made news during the presidential campaign when he asked Barack Obama about taxes. Wurzelbacher recently spoke at an event featuring gubenitorial candidate Steve Lonegan.

There was an item on the internet the other day concerning the question of who has the best job in the world. I'll tell you who: All of us journalists covering Jersey politics. That's who.

Tuesday evening offered unparalleled amusement. Steve Lonegan, the right-wing former mayor of Bogota, had scheduled an event in Clark featuring "Joe the Plumber." Joe, whose last name is Wurzelbacher, is a guy from Ohio who won fame during last year's presidential campaign when he asked Barack Obama a simple question to which Obama gave a convoluted answer that ended with "when you spread the wealth around, it's good for everybody."

Joe became an instant celebrity for getting Obama to channel his inner socialist. Joe, meanwhile, channeled his inner capitalist. He has since traveled the globe sharing his insights about everything except the one subject on which he has actual expertise: how to keep the clean water flowing up and the dirty water flowing down.

Joe must be doing something right, though, because the cars were lined up for a block or so along narrow Featherbed Lane in Clark heading into the parking lot of the Deutscher Club. This is a traditional German beer garden with vast pits for barbecuing various forms of braten as well as a sort of cattle-chute system for channeling the crowd to a bar where pitchers of beer are poured from immense kegs.

It seemed a lovely and hospitable respite on a rainy evening. But my professional duties required me to leave this garden of gemutlichkeit and interview the few forlorn Republicans gathered across the street to protest. These people represented the state Republican establishment, almost all of which is backing former U.S. Attorney Chris Christie. Last time I visited the Christie crowd, it was at a suit-and-tie $250-a-plate fundraiser. It was jarring to see them on the outside looking in.

Also odd was the subject of their protest. Lonegan is proposing to reduce the state income tax, which is slated to have a top rate of 10.25 percent next year, to a flat 2.9 percent. For the life of me, I can't comprehend why people who can afford to spend $250 on a buffet dinner would object to such a tax cut.

I figured I'd ask state Assembly members Caroline Casagrande and Dave Rible. They were on hand to answer questions from the press. That consisted of me, since my colleagues had the good sense not to go out in the rain. I asked Casagrande the obvious question about Lonegan's tax plan: "My tax rate would go down to 2.9 percent and I could pay my kids' college tuition," I said. "Why would I oppose it?"

"A certain percentage of the population would benefit at a certain time of their lives," Casagrande conceded.

Unfortunately for Christie, that population is likely Republican primary voters and that time is now. But perhaps Christie has a plan to cut taxes even below 2.9 percent. I asked Casagrande what income-tax rates Christie advocates.

"I think what we know about Chris Christie's top tax rate is: No. 1 it will definitely be below Jon Corzine's top tax rate of more than 10 percent," she replied.

"What we know?" Is Christie running for governor of New Jersey or Oracle of Delphi? With just over three weeks left to the primary election he still hasn't told his own supporters his tax plan. Now, that's entertainment.

At this point the local polizei showed up and informed the cream of the state Republican establishment that their cars were parked illegally and would be towed. And so a unique spectacle ended. It was perhaps the first and I imagine the last time that I will see the leaders of a political party picketing their own base.

Back in the beer garden, the crowd was going wild, fueled by the pitchers of Yuengling provided as part of the $50 price of admission. A band called Shorty Long and the Jersey Horns was revving the mob up to fever pitch. I couldn't see from the back, but a workman had left a stepladder next to the wall as if anticipating my needs. I climbed it to observe the spectacle.

Assemblyman Mike Doherty from Warren County, one of the few dissenters from party orthodoxy and a West Point grad, was working the crowd up to near-military fervor. After Mike got off, the 3-foot-tall Shorty put on an Obama mask and shot around the stage area in his motorized wheelchair. The crowd howled.

Soon Joe the Plumber, who made a mere $40,000 last year according to newspaper reports, got up and put in a good word for tax-cutting in general. The rest of his speech was forgettable, but I couldn't help noticing that Joe the Plumber's tax-cutting plan for New Jersey was every bit as specific as Chris Christie's.

After Lonegan gave a stem-winder of a speech, Shorty Long and his band wrapped the evening's entertainment up. My fellow members of the working press and I repaired to the bar. There we bought some steins of Hacker-Pschorr and congratulated each other on having the good fortune to cover the most amusing political scene in America, if not on Earth.